


Even This Moment

by lily_winterwood



Category: Black Mirror, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Additional Ships in Notes, All the skaters fuck each other, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Black Mirror AU, Casual Sex, F/M, Figure Skating inaccuracies, Hook-Up, Light Angst, M/M, Matchmaking, Multi, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Switching, Technology, hang the dj au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 15:35:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lily_winterwood/pseuds/lily_winterwood
Summary: Slowly, his hands reach out, entangle themselves with Yuuri’s. Yuuri looks at him, briefly startled but quickly relaxing into a wide smile. For a moment, Viktor can forget that their last six hours are ticking down constantly on the devices next to them. That come morning, they’ll have to part ways, and be paired off to others by the system in pursuit of the ultimate match.For right now, all he has is Yuuri, and that’s all he needs, too. (Hang the DJ AU)





	1. little by little

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nyerus (dragonmist310)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonmist310/gifts).



> This was first started on Tumblr in ficlet form as a birthday present for Nye, and then I realised I wanted to do the entire AU, so here we are. I know the figure skating in this is unrealistic as hell. Bear with me, it's actually sorta relevant. 
> 
> If you're concerned about the pairings, you can click to the end notes and see the full list of pairings that show up in here. Viktuuri is endgame, though, if that's what you're really worried about.
> 
> If there's anything else I can warn for in the tags, let me know. Other than that, buckle in!

“Hey Coach, who am I meeting?”

 _Your designated relationship is here_ , replies the little circular device in Viktor’s hand. Moments later, a picture pops up of the young Japanese man currently sitting in the booth right in front of him.

Viktor exhales in relief, smiles, pockets the device. The other man looks up from over blue-rimmed glasses, and smiles.

“Hi,” says Viktor, his voice a lot brighter than he’d like. “I’m Viktor.”

“Yuuri,” replies the man, his cheeks flushing somewhat as he clambers out of the booth to bow in greeting. “You look, um. Nice shirt. And tie. And jacket. Mostly everything.”

Viktor chuckles, returning the bow. “Hopefully my face is included with that,” he jokes, and Yuuri gasps.

“Of _course_ your face!” he exclaims, scurrying back into his seat. “I’m — god. I’m sorry if I come off as really awkward and boring.”

“Oh, no,” says Viktor as he takes a seat in the booth across from Yuuri. “I don’t think — no. It’s pretty cute, actually.”

Yuuri flushes harder, and Viktor can’t help but chuckle as he briefly scans the menu. When he looks up, Yuuri’s fidgeting with his own device, worrying his lip between his teeth.

Viktor smiles, hoping he can reach out and provide some semblance of comfort. “Nervous?” he asks.

“Are you?” counters Yuuri, and Viktor nods.

“Terrified. You can’t see it, but I’m frozen with fear right now.”

Yuuri arches an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to help you with that?”

Viktor chuckles. “Maybe _that’s_ why I’m frozen with fear,” he says with a grin. “I mean, this is my first time, so —”

“Oh thank god,” blurts out Yuuri, and then claps a hand to his mouth. “I mean. Same here.”

Viktor raises an eyebrow, even as relief floods through him. “You’re new to the system?” he asks.

Yuuri nods, before looking around and nodding at the other couples in the Hub, all paired off in their little booths, lost in their own little worlds. “Everyone else seems to know what to do, and I just — I don’t wanna mess it up on my first time —”

Viktor takes his hand. “It’s going to be all right,” he says, patting it briefly. Yuuri’s hand is warm as it slides perfectly against his own. “We’ll figure this out together, okay? Let’s start with… well.” He gestures to the circular device that both of them have. “This.”

Yuuri nods, tapping at the screen of his. The words ‘Tap to reveal expiry date’ have appeared.

“We’re supposed to tap it at the same time,” he says, and Viktor nods. “Okay, on three? One, two —”

“Three,” finishes Viktor, and they tap. He looks at the numbers, and exhales. Next to him, Yuuri slumps.

“Twelve hours,” he says. “Huh.”

Viktor looks sidelong at him, at the line of his jaw, the candlelight sparkling in his eyes, the visible downturn of his mouth.

“That seems awfully short,” he remarks, just as the waiter arrives with their food. Yuuri raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe it’s because you ordered borscht,” he replies, and Viktor looks down at his dish with a short bark of laughter.

“Oh, you don’t like borscht?” he teases.

Yuuri smiles. “Sorry, that was a bad joke.”

Viktor laughs harder. “What have you got?” he asks, nodding at the breaded cutlets in Yuuri’s bowl.

“Katsudon,” replies Yuuri. “Funny how this system knows what we want to eat, huh? Pretty convenient.”

“Could I try some of yours?” asks Viktor. “Since you’re so morally opposed to my borscht.”

“I’m not morally opposed —” begins Yuuri, but he laughs and pushes his bowl towards Viktor anyway.

Twelve hours. Viktor has to wonder at the capriciousness of the system. Isn’t it fairly obvious that he and Yuuri are getting along well? What could possibly happen to give their relationship a twelve-hour expiry?

He stabs at the cutlet with his fork, tears off a little piece and eats it. “Oh _fuck_ ,” he says, as soon as he swallows. “That’s amazing.”

“I know,” says Yuuri, eyes sparkling. “Could I maybe…?”

“Try my borscht?” asks Viktor, pushing over his own bowl. “I dunno, you might be disappointed, now that I know what you eat.”

“I’ve got an open mind,” teases Yuuri, trying a little of the beet. He raises an eyebrow. “Hm.”

“I told you, kind of a let-down after your katsudon,” says Viktor. His device flashes at him, the countdown from twelve hours already underway. “Let’s — let’s make the most of these twelve hours, yeah?”

“Last one to clean his bowl’s a rotten egg,” replies Yuuri.

* * *

The clock has counted back an hour when they finally finish their food and leave the Hub, lit golden against the indigo night. Thousands of distant twinkling stars shine from far away, and the moonlight reflects almost too perfectly off the serene surface of the lake.

“So what do you usually do?” asks Viktor as they wait for their ride outside. Yuuri shivers a little in the night wind; Viktor puts an arm around him. Yuuri leans in, shrugging noncommittally against his shoulder even as he feels Viktor’s warmth press against him.

“I like to skate in my free time,” he says. “And I like dogs, but —”

“They won’t let you have a dog in here, I know,” says Viktor, his heart-shaped smile a little bittersweet. “I miss mine, too.”

“Oh!” Yuuri perks at that. “What breed?”

“Standard poodle. He’s… It’s been a while since I saw him, I think.” Viktor runs his hand through his silvery hair, chuckling. “He’s a good boy.”

“So’s my Vicchan,” says Yuuri, feeling his cheeks heat even as he thinks about his own dog. “I miss her.”

Viktor’s eyebrow arches. “What breed’s Vicchan?”

“Toy poodle, actually.” Yuuri looks off across the lake, at the golden pinpricks of light scattered all around the edge, sprawling out into the emerald-foliaged hills. Thousands of units, thousands of matches, and here they are, one amid thousands. “But I suppose we all have to give something up to find our ‘ultimate match’.”

“Yeah,” agrees Viktor wistfully, and Yuuri can’t help but look back and admire the way his silvery hair seems to fall in his face. How did he get so lucky to get someone as gorgeous as Viktor for a first date?

Silently, their ride arrives — a tiny little golf-cart like thing, which drives off by itself once they both board. It makes its way around the vast, glittering lake, and at one point Viktor leans over to look out the open side at the stars wheeling overhead.

“It’s vast,” says Yuuri, following suit. The moon shines serenely down at him like a perfect round disk. “And almost… infinite.”

“It isn’t, though,” says Viktor, as the path takes them along the side of a long concrete wall. “I hear it stops at the end of this wall right here.”

Yuuri snorts. “ _That’s_ just a story,” he says.

“Well, Coach won’t tell me anything, so.” Viktor shrugs. Yuuri hums as he shifts to lean his head against Viktor’s shoulder, trying to quash the fluttering his stomach as he hears Viktor’s breath hitch.

Twelve hours. That’s all this is.

Finally, the cart pulls up at a simple-looking cabin and deposits them on the front porch before pulling away as silently as it came. Yuuri purses his lips as he looks at the biometric handprint scanner, before turning to Viktor with a questioning glance.

“You go ahead,” says Viktor, so Yuuri presses his hand to the scanner. There’s a merry chime, and the door swings open silently.

Viktor pokes his head in, and Yuuri hears the electric hum of the cabin coming to life around him, all the lights slowly flickering on within the wood-panelled walls. “What a classic little room,” he remarks.

“What’s it like?” asks Yuuri, before stepping in to confirm for himself. He shucks his shoes off, turning around and around in wonder as he takes in the lounge-like lighting over the sleek minimalist living room. Somewhere behind him, he hears Viktor do the same.

“Oh, it’s got a double bed,” the other man says as he steps behind a partition. “And an ensuite.”

Yuuri flops down on the couch. “Bath or shower?”

“Both,” says Viktor. There’s a sudden tense pause, as the reality of the situation sinks into Yuuri’s gut. Here they are, all alone in a cabin with only one bed. Surely the system expects them to…?

Strangely, Yuuri feels nothing but warmth at the possibility.

He hears Viktor clear his throat in the bedroom. “I could — I could freshen up?” the other man asks, poking his head around the partition. Yuuri waves at him.

“I’ll be out here,” he replies, and Viktor nods as he vanishes back into the bedroom. Moments later, the door to the bathroom clicks closed, and Yuuri quickly grabs his device.

“Coach,” he says. “What are we supposed to do?”

* * *

No sooner has the door to the ensuite closed behind him does Viktor whip out his device from his pocket and set it on the bathroom counter.

“Hey Coach,” he says, shooting a glance towards the closed door as he starts to run the sink. “Are we expected to do it?”

 _Expected to do what?_ asks the device cheerily.

Viktor sighs. “Fuck. On the first date.”

 _There are no expectations for anything_ , replies the device.

* * *

“So we don’t have to have sex, right?” asks Yuuri to his device.

 _Affirmative_ , it says. Yuuri exhales, tucking himself onto the couch.

“Are you sure?” he asks after a moment. “We’re not gonna get kicked out if we… don’t?”

 _What you two do during the duration of your relationship is entirely up to you_.

* * *

“Okay then.” Viktor exhales, shaking out his hands. Splashes of water hit the mirror, start to run down the glass. “What if I _want_ to have sex?”

 _Then you give your consent_. A series of check boxes fly up, and Viktor’s eyebrows fly into his hairline as he scrolls through them.

“That’s pretty comprehensive,” he says. “Uh. But what if he doesn’t want to?”

 _Both parties must have consent in order for intercourse to proceed. Failure to comply will result in early termination of the relationship_.

“Okay, okay. Wasn’t thinking of it. Just wanted to make sure.” Viktor splashes some water on his face. “But we don’t _have_ to do it, right?”

 _You do not_ have _to do anything_ , replies the device. _When the designated expiry date arrives, you two must vacate this unit. That is all_.

* * *

“What if he doesn’t want to?” asks Yuuri. “What if he doesn’t think I’m attractive?”

 _The system makes preliminary matches based on initial compatibility scoring from when you first entered it_ , replies the device. _You would not be paired with someone who did not find you at least baseline attractive to them_.

Yuuri scowls. “That’s not exactly comforting,” he complains. “I just. I don’t want to mess it up, and we’ve only got… how many hours left?”

 _Six, within the next ten minutes_.

“Okay.” Yuuri exhales. “Um. Just in case, but… where’s the… supplies?”

 _Nightstand drawer_.

Yuuri swallows. “Thanks.”

* * *

When Viktor comes back outside, Yuuri is sitting on the couch with his feet tucked up under him, fidgeting with his device. “I could sleep here tonight,” he says without preamble, a pink flush dusting his cheeks.

“The bed’s big enough for both of us,” replies Viktor, nodding towards it. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“I know that,” says Yuuri, exhaling as he sets his device down. He plays nervously with his fingers. “You know. Just a first time thing.”

“Yeah,” agrees Viktor. “We’ll take it slow.”

“We only have six hours,” replies Yuuri, gesturing to the device.

“A lot can happen in six hours.” Viktor steps back towards the bed, and Yuuri follows him, sitting at the foot of the bed next to him.

“You know, this system is a godsend,” he says, nervously crossing his ankles and fidgeting with the cuff of his shirt. “At least, for people like me. Having to navigate a relationship by myself and know when to break it off? I’d rather not even get involved, honestly.”

“They say this system has a 99.8% success rate,” agrees Viktor. “I’m just — I’m always so busy. Too busy for dating, you know? Having a computer pick out the one for me just seems easier.”

“You think you’ll find them?” asks Yuuri, raising an eyebrow. Together, they lie back against the coverlets of the bed, letting the cabin slowly dim around them. Viktor turns to face Yuuri, taking in the way the moonlight from outside the window turns him almost silver, taking in the way his inky black lashes flutter against his cheeks.

“The ultimate match?” asks Viktor, furrowing his brows. Yuuri nods, and Viktor worries at his lip. “I hope so,” he says. “It’s worked for everyone else, maybe it’ll work for me, too.” He pauses. “And you, too, I hope.”

“Yeah,” breathes Yuuri, his breath warm in the space between them. Viktor vaguely wonders why this seems so familiar all of a sudden. As if he’d been here before, feeling this same warmth blossom in his chest as he takes in Yuuri’s sparkling eyes under the moonlight.

Slowly, his hands reach out, entangle themselves with Yuuri’s. Yuuri looks at him, briefly startled but quickly relaxing into a wide smile. For a moment, Viktor can forget that their last six hours are ticking down constantly on the devices next to them, that come morning they’ll have to part ways.

For right now, all he has is Yuuri, and that’s all he needs, too.

* * *

In the morning, they step out of their unit as the last minutes of the timers tick away, and Yuuri is suddenly seized with a desire to freeze time.

“So,” he says. “This is it.”

Viktor puts his hands and his device in his pockets, scuffs at the pavement. The carts have pulled up, one in each direction. Yuuri looks over at his with a soft sigh, before turning and extending his hand to Viktor. The beeping of their timers seems to get louder with each step they take towards one another.

Viktor takes his hand. “You know, I wouldn’t have minded,” he says.

“Minded what?” asks Yuuri.

“Doing it,” says Viktor. “With you.”

Yuuri feels simultaneously light and heavy at once, like a balloon tied to the end of an anvil. “Yeah, same here,” he replies. “With you. I mean. You’re really nice.”

“Maybe next time?” asks Viktor, his blue eyes sparkling like sapphires in the morning light. Yuuri wants, for a flickering moment, nothing more than to just _look_ at them forever.

“Yeah, maybe next time,” he says, squeezing Viktor’s hand as the last seconds of their time tick away, and the house behind them locks. Resetting itself for the next pair, probably. Yuuri tries, in the meantime, to memorise the way Viktor’s hands feel against his. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah.” Viktor nods, and slowly, regretfully, Yuuri steps away from him, turning around to head to his cart.

He can’t help but toss one look back at Viktor, though, just in time to catch the other man looking back at him just as he clambers into his cart. Yuuri waves a little, and Viktor returns it with an easy smile.

As his cart pulls away, Yuuri takes out his device and watches the circular screen hum and glow. “I really liked him, Coach,” he says quietly. “Why did I only get twelve hours?”

 _Even short encounters can provide the system with valuable information_ , the device replies.

Yuuri sighs. “Short encounters that lead nowhere?” he asks.

 _Every encounter has meaning_. If the device had a face, Yuuri would imagine it would be smiling pityingly at him. _Everything happens for a reason_.

* * *

“But what if he’s the one?” asks Viktor as he jogs along the wooded trail. Far along the ridge, the chrome gleam of the Hub twinkles in the light, alongside a smaller building Viktor knows is the ice rink. Where Yuuri would probably be skating in his free time.

But there’s no other compelling reason for him to go there, so he presses along his current course.

 _Your ultimate compatible other has not been selected yet_ , replies the device. _It will be, however, as you continue to progress through numerous relationships with other people_. _With each of them, the system monitors your reactions to them and uses the data to find your ultimate match_.

“Yeah, and we hop on a cart and get out of here, I know, I’ve heard the stories,” says Viktor, sighing as he stops by a water fountain for a sip. “99.8% of people matched this way successfully. But they have to go through all of these other ones to get there?”

 _Affirmative_.

Viktor sighs, looks up at the gleaming ice rink. “Great,” he says, just as the device chimes. “What’s that?”

 _You have another relationship_.

* * *

“Another one? So soon?” demands Yuuri as he consults his device at the side of the ice rink.

 _Affirmative_ , replies the device cheerily as it flashes him the instructions to get to the Hub. Yuuri swipes it away, especially considering how close he is to the building.

“I better get changed,” he mutters as he steps off the ice and puts the guards back on his skates, before taking the skates off and heading back up to the locker rooms.

He’s late for the appointment by a couple minutes, despite having been so close to the Hub. His date is already seated at the booth, scowling over the menu.

“You’re late,” the man says, looking up. Yuuri notes the thick brows, the carefully coiffed black hair.

“I’m sorry, I was — I was changing,” he says, sliding into the booth next to him. “I’m Yuuri.”

“Seung-gil,” says the man, holding up the device. “Let’s get it over with, shall we?”

Yuuri feels cold apprehension curling in his gut. “Yeah,” he manages, flicking to the expiry date screen on his device. They tap, and the words ‘1 year’ pops up.

Yuuri feels his stomach sink. “A year!” he exclaims, hoping his enthusiasm doesn’t sound noticeably forced. “That’s… we’ve got a lot of time.”

“Indeed,” says Seung-gil, as their server comes by with their food. Yuuri can feel the other man judging his katsudon.

He tries not to sink too hard into the cushions of the booth. This is looking to be a long year.

* * *

Viktor stares at the screen on his device. He turns it off, and then back on again, just to make sure. Across the table from him, the young man with the black undercut still hasn’t stopped talking about himself.

Nine months with this ‘Jean-Jacques’. Viktor’s tempted to find out if there _really_ is something out there beyond the wall.

“ — been doing this for so long already, you’re probably like my fifth. I’m really quite a natural at this, so I might have some quirks and things that I’ll need you to know right off the bat. First off, maple syrup. I love it when there’s maple syrup —”

“Right,” says Viktor, nodding and smiling along with Jean-Jacques’s blathering. “So, you ordered pasta, huh?”

“I only got it because they don’t usually have poutine. It’s not necessarily the most high-brow of food decisions, but sometimes the setting gets casual enough that they serve it. This is my second favourite, though — I like Périgord truffles with my pasta, of course!”

“That’s nice,” says Viktor, not thinking it nice at all. “And, uh, what other quirks?”

“I like to be on top,” says Jean-Jacques immediately. “It just feels better. For me. I’m sorry if that sounds really weird, or funny, or —”

“I’m not laughing,” says Viktor. He’s not really doing much of anything at all. “And I don’t have a preference myself, so I’m fine with that.”

“I like establishing that ahead of time. You’re not my first guy, so, you know, that’s how I know my preference. It’s just easier with girls, you know? Because there’s really no debate where anything is going.”

“ _Is_ there?” wonders Viktor vaguely, quirking an eyebrow.

“You haven’t done this before?”

“No, I —” Viktor cuts off, trying hard not to think about Yuuri. He looks around at the other couples, watches their gentle chatter, their easy camaraderie. “I’ve been in relationships before,” he says vaguely, and Jean-Jacques visibly exhales.

“Good! One of the girls I was in a relationship with was a complete newcomer, and I — well. We had a good time, I think. She was nice. But she met her ultimate match a while ago and I haven’t heard from her since.”

Viktor nods, sneaking another glance at the timer. The numbers haven’t budged.

This is going to be a long nine months.

* * *

“So,” says Yuuri, staring at the inside of the cabin as it lights up with his hesitant steps over the threshold. “Have you ever…?”

“A couple,” says Seung-gil. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Right.” Yuuri shuffles over to the couch. “I’ll, uh. Be right here.”

He takes a seat, fidgeting with the device as he listens to the door click and the dim sound of the shower start to turn on. This cabin is so different from the one he went to with Viktor. The layout is roughly similar, but the décor is different — more wood panelling, a warmer pallette.

The longer he sits on the couch, though, the more his mind strays back to Viktor. He wonders, vaguely, what the other man is doing right now. Maybe he’s in another relationship. Maybe he’s hitting it off well with the other person, and they’re having an amazing time. Maybe they’ll be put together long enough to have sex.

Sex. Right. Yuuri is suddenly extremely aware of the sound of the water running in the other room, of his own arousal curling low in his gut. Seung-gil’s attractive, reasonably — he can definitely see what the Coach meant by ‘pairing based on baseline attraction’ or whatever.

But a year? Surely there must be a mistake here.

“Are you sure about this?” Yuuri asks his device. “I mean, a year? Surely he’s got better people to meet.”

 _The system must assess your reactions to a multitude of scenarios in order to create a comprehensive profile by which to pair you with your ultimate match_ , replies the device.

“And that includes extended cohabitation with someone you’re not completely compatible with?”

 _Everything happens for a reason_ , replies the device.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Yuuri scrubs at his eyes. “What’ll happen if I run away?”

 _Failure to comply with the parameters of the relationship will result in banishment_ , replies the device.

“Banishment,” echoes Yuuri quietly to himself, feeling his gut sink like a stone as the water in the bathroom turns off. Moments later Seung-gil emerges, towelling at his hair.

“Well?” asks the other man, clicking at his device. There’s a cheery noise, and Yuuri looks down at his device to notice a notification that says ‘Seung-gil has consented to sexual intercourse’ on it. “One of the quickest gauges of compatibility is having sex.”

Yuuri looks down at his own consent checklist. His fingers tremble for a moment, before he remembers that chances are, Viktor’s probably agreeing to the same thing elsewhere.

He presses the button. A cheery ring.

“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s get it over with.”

* * *

“This isn’t working,” Viktor says, but Jean-Jacques doesn’t seem to have heard him.

“Oh, god, yes,” the other man is muttering, punctuating each soft groan with another thrust. Viktor lies beneath him, almost inert with just how much this is _not_ working for him, but not entirely sure how to proceed.

He’s rather regretting consenting earlier in the evening, but he quite literally made his bed, and now clearly he’s lying in it with another man ( _who isn’t Yuuri_ , his brain helpfully supplies) flopping around on top of him.

“Joe-Johns,” he says. “Jim-Jacks. Whatever your name is.”

“Jean-Jacques,” retorts Jean-Jacques, brushing some hair out of his eyes as he slows a little. “What’s up?”

Viktor looks up at the ceiling. “Maybe we should do it from behind,” he says.

So they switch positions, Viktor getting down on all fours against the pillow. Jean-Jacques thrusts back in, biting off some unintelligible curse as his fingers press hard against Viktor’s hips. Viktor clenches his teeth and exhales through his nose, squeezing his eyes tight and thinking about Yuuri’s gentle brown eyes instead.

After Jean-Jacques comes, he disposes of the condom and gets back in bed, yawning widely. Viktor lies there, face pressed hard into his pillow, his own cock still hard and neglected against the sheets.

“I’m sorry, I’m complete rubbish at blowjobs,” says Jean-Jacques from next to him. “I could use my hands?”

“No,” says Viktor, clambering to his feet. “Get some sleep; I’ll take care of this myself.”

And with that, he heads into the bathroom with the full intention of standing under the pounding torrent of the shower and thinking of Yuuri.

* * *

The sex had been, well. It had been fine, by all means. Not bad. Probably pretty decent, by most standards.

Yuuri looks over at where Seung-gil lies sleeping, his back turned to him. The man had been good with his tongue, Yuuri will give him that. He himself had probably been completely terrible, but he’s got an entire year to fix that. Hopefully.

In the darkness, Yuuri feels as if he’s surrounded by nothing but his own thoughts, wheeling overhead as infinite as the stars outside. Out of so many different permutations of relationships, what were the odds that he’d get it right on the first go? How could it be that, out of all of the constellations in the sky, the one that resonates with him most would be the first star he’d met?

He looks over at his device, at the countdown back from 365 days — now 364 days, 22 hours, 43 minutes, 57 seconds. He tries to will it to go faster, but the numbers remain stubbornly slow under his gaze. With a sigh, Yuuri turns back, his hand reaching out to brush against Seung-gil’s back.

The man flinches away. Yuuri swallows down the lump in his throat, and turns his back on him as well.

* * *

A couple days later the announcement goes out. It’s a Pairing Day, and everyone is invited to attend. Viktor stands next to Jean-Jacques, resisting the urge to yawn as he looks through the sea of couples.

“JJ!” a female voice trills. A young woman with black hair cut into a bob waves at Viktor.

“Izzy!” Jean-Jacques exclaims, and taps at Viktor’s shoulder. “Mind if I catch up with someone?”

“Sure,” says Viktor, not really even paying attention anymore, as his gaze has suddenly fallen on a familiar mop of inky black hair. Yuuri is there in a black suit and navy tie, hovering at the elbow of a Korean man who seems determined to ignore everyone around him, including the beautiful person on his arm.

Viktor has never felt so much unmitigated jealousy as he does in this moment.

Yuuri turns, catching Viktor’s eye through the crowd. He smiles that secret little smile that warms Viktor’s heart, and waves his fingers discreetly. Viktor’s hand clenches, but he waves back just as the bells ring to signify the start of the Pairing ceremony.

Viktor is vaguely aware of how this is supposed to go. The happy couple is supposed to affirm their bond in front of all of them, talking about how hard the system had worked to get them together and how everyone else, just like them, will one day find their ultimate match and be standing on that stage that day. The ceremony goes just like that, some tall man named Georgi almost breaking down halfway through his description of the supposed beauty of his new ultimate match, Anya. She only laughs and waves in response, her smile seeming just a little brittle to Viktor’s gaze, and as everyone claps at Georgi’s speech, he can’t help but wonder if this really is it.

Is this really how finding your ultimate match should go?

“Do you think they’re really in love?”

Viktor looks up from where he’d been cutting himself a slice of Pairing Day cake at the reception. It’s nearing sunset now, and all of the guests are mingling along to the serene music coming from a live band playing in the corner. The Pairing Day ceremony and its reception are at the ruins of an old castle at a wooded bank of the vast lake, and the afternoon sky ripples in its reflection across the water.

Viktor looks up, just in time to meet Yuuri’s brown eyes. They shine contemplatively as he tilts his head and smiles, and for a moment, Viktor has to remember how to breathe.

“Sorry, what?”

Yuuri’s smile grows wider. “Do you think they’re really in love?”

“Well, they’re each other’s ultimate match,” Viktor says, shrugging. “The system has a 99.8% chance of success, so they’re probably it.”

“Hm,” replies Yuuri, reaching over to Viktor’s cake and swiping himself a glob of frosting, popping it into his mouth in a way that gets the blood in Viktor’s head going in the opposite direction. “I suppose I should have more faith in the system, but…”

A sudden, tense silence falls between them. Viktor watches the other man fiddle with his wine glass, a light flush dusting his cheeks as he picks up a napkin for his fingers. He feels drawn into Yuuri’s orbit, a wayward planet caught in the gravitational force of a star.

“Well, I was going to say nice to meet you, but you stole some of my frosting, so…” he jokes, and Yuuri laughs a little at that.

“Interesting shoes,” he says, gesturing to the brouging along Viktor’s oxfords.

“Interesting tie,” Viktor retorts, gesturing to the navy monstrosity threatening to strangle Yuuri’s neck.

Yuuri laughs sheepishly, tugging at it. “Listen, I’m sometimes told I look like I get dressed in the dark, you really don’t need to dig it in,” he says.

“I could think of a lot of better uses for that tie,” replies Viktor, and Yuuri arches an eyebrow, stepping impossibly closer.

“You could?” he asks, and Viktor’s breath hitches a little when he catches the shimmer of the lanterns in Yuuri’s eyes, across the swipe of his tongue as he wets his lips. The very air feels golden between them, golden and warm and infinite —

Yuuri clears his throat, steps back. “Sorry,” he says, his smile no longer reaching his eyes. “So! You’re here with…?”

“Jean-Jacques,” says Viktor, unable to keep the drudgery out of his voice. “He’s very… he’s exuberant and confident, I’ll give him that.”

“Ah,” says Yuuri, nodding. There’s a pointed cough right behind him, as the Korean man he’d been with earlier sidles up next to them.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says coolly.

“Viktor,” says Viktor, extending his hand. The other man looks down his nose at it for a moment before gingerly reaching out and shaking it once, twice.

“Seung-gil,” he says.

“I’m… he’s… we’re together,” says Yuuri, patting Seung-gil’s shoulder. “He also likes dogs.”

“Really?” asks Viktor.

“Huskies,” states Seung-gil.

“Oh, the loud whiny ones,” says Viktor. “Very cute, but very needy.”

Yuuri stifles a grin into a flute of champagne, as Seung-gil raises an eyebrow.

“So, you two?”

“We were together before,” says Viktor quickly, taking a step back. “Briefly.”

“Very briefly,” agrees Yuuri.

“I see.” Seung-gil crosses his arms. “Well, it was nice to meet you, but Yuuri and I have to go now.”

“Right.” Viktor nods and smiles, because he’s also spotted Jean-Jacques moving towards him out of the crowd. Everyone is now following Georgi and Anya out to the road past the trees, where their cart awaits them to take them away from here, out past the wall to the great beyond.

Jean-Jacques’s smile is a little subdued when he reaches Viktor, and Viktor only follows him out of instinct, his gaze still firmly fixed on Yuuri’s receding head as he vanishes once more into the crowd.

* * *

The slide of his skates against the ice has always been a source of enduring comfort for Yuuri. There’s something about tracing figures that calms him, something about the exhilaration of almost flying on the ice that makes all of his worries and fears dissolve away.

He also does jumps, too. He’s managed to get a quad toe and a quad sal, but every time he tries to go for a flip jump he only gets in three rotations. Nevertheless, he keeps trying, keeps on working through the footwork for figure skating routines he will never perform.

After all, there’s very little joy in competition if everyone skates a clean performance, and Yuuri has not fallen on the ice in a very long time.

Nevertheless, he measures out the time through these routines, counts down minutes with jumps and hours through figures. Like this the days pass in Salchows and loops, in spread eagles and Ina Bauers, in sit spins and camel spins until —

 _90 days, 12 hours, 4 minutes, 3 seconds_.

Yuuri emerges from the locker rooms of the ice rink just in time to collide with someone jogging in. “Oh!” he exclaims, stepping back from the man with wide-eyes. “I’m so sorry, I —”

“Yuuri!” gasps Viktor, his eyes wide.

“Viktor,” breathes Yuuri.

“How are you?”

“I’m…” Yuuri shrugs. “Just getting off practice for the day. You?”

“Thinking of picking up a new hobby,” replies Viktor, nodding towards the rink. “You any good at teaching?”

“Well,” begins Yuuri, looking around. There’s a guard stationed nearby, dressed all in black. He levels a glare at them, and Yuuri feels as if the ice from the rink has suddenly crawled down his spine. “I… is that against the rules?”

“We could ask the Coach,” replies Viktor, shrugging as he takes out his device. “Hey Coach —”

The device makes a chiming noise. _You have a new relationship_.

Viktor looks up, eyes wide and hopeful, but all Yuuri feels is dread. He shakes his head.

“It’s not me, I’m still with Seung-gil for a couple more months,” he says apologetically.

“Ah,” says Viktor, nodding as he swipes away the notification. “Well, then, I guess I better take a rain check on skating lessons.”

Yuuri doesn’t want to believe in the brief flicker of disappointment in Viktor’s eyes, or the way he seems to wilt after Yuuri tells him about Seung-gil. He looks over at the guard again, who has pushed back his jacket pocket to show the handle of a taser, and shudders a little.

“Yeah, some other day,” he agrees. “Good luck on your date tonight.”

Viktor chuckles, and the sound follows Yuuri all the way into the locker rooms.

* * *

Viktor is honestly glad to be rid of Jean-Jacques. The poor man isn’t fundamentally _bad_ , per se, but it’s also painfully obvious how much he prefers women. Viktor’s rather looking forward to seeing if the next relationship will give him a little more satisfaction.

Apparently not, though. The young man scowling across the table from him barely looks old enough to use the system.

“There’s got to be a mistake, right?” Viktor asks, eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re practically a kid.”

“For your information, sixteen is old enough to join the system in some parts of the world,” retorts the kid, glaring at him from over his pirozhki. “And I’m pretty sure I excluded the 45+ age bracket in my preliminary tests, so clearly something’s broken here.”

“I’m twenty-seven,” Viktor points out.

“Whatever,” says the kid. Viktor can’t believe his name is Yuri. He’s already mentally redubbed him as Yurio.

He smiles his most placid smile. “Okay, then, why don’t we check how long you’ve got to spend with this grandpa over here,” he says, and Yurio rolls his eyes and taps viciously at his device.

 _30 minutes_ , says the device. Viktor’s not sure whether the visible sigh of relief comes from himself or Yurio.

“Why don’t we just finish our dinner and get the fuck away from each other?” Yurio suggests.

Viktor’s smile is just as sharp as the kid’s eyes. “Couldn’t agree more,” he replies.

* * *

Yuuri’s sitting on the couch again, watching Seung-gil chopping vegetables for dinner. The cabins are fully stocked for the duration of their stay, which means this one’s larder never seems to run out.

“What got you to join this?” he asks, gesturing around him. Seung-gil briefly looks up at him with a sceptical glare before resuming his chopping.

“My sister signed me up,” he says after a moment. “It’s all the rage where I’m from. A 99.8% guaranteed match? Everyone loves that. Loves the concept that there’s an ultimate match for you out there, and the best way to find them is after thousands of calculations and attempted relationships.”

“Calculations?” echoes Yuuri.

“Well, the system’s an algorithm, right?” asks Seung-gil, as he tosses all of the chopped vegetables into a salad spinner and starts to mix them up. “You feed it enough bits of data — enough failed and successful relationships — and it will eventually spit out for you things specifically tailored to your personality. The perfect partner. Your ultimate match.”

Yuuri hums, drumming his fingers against his knees. “You said you’d had a couple of relationships before me. What do you think the system thinks of you?”

“It doesn’t make value judgements,” says Seung-gil automatically.

“Yeah, Coach says as much,” replies Yuuri, rolling his eyes. “I was wondering what _you_ thought.”

Seung-gil shrugs. “It probably thinks I’m going to die alone,” he says, and Yuuri looks up in mild alarm at that.

“You’re not going to die alone,” he says. “I mean, you’re in here, right? You’re bound to find someone.”

Seung-gil shrugs, tossing a little more dressing than what’s strictly necessary onto the salad as he dumps it all into a serving bowl. “Dunno.” He shrugs, bringing out plates and cutlery and a set of salad tongs. “You’re the longest anyone’s had to put up with me in here. They’re probably getting plenty of data about me based on what we’re doing.”

Yuuri hums, slowly unfolding himself from his spot on the couch and coming over to the kitchen counter, plating himself a little salad. “Well, have you had anyone you were partnered with who you really liked?”

Seung-gil shrugs again, stabbing at his lettuce leaves as if they had personally offended him. “Dunno,” he repeats, and Yuuri sighs.

* * *

The next one is a little better.

“One, two, three,” says Phichit, cheerily tapping at his device. Viktor quickly follows suit, and a congratulatory ‘36 hours’ greets them.

“A day and a half,” he says, smiling. Phichit’s smile is blindingly white as he holds up his device like a camera.

“Wanna take commemorative pictures?” he asks, and Viktor gladly acquiesces.

Phichit rides him like a pro, kisses him like he’s been doing it for centuries. Viktor would have had a perfect thirty-six hours, if it hadn’t been for the fact that when he turned and tried to take Phichit’s hand afterwards, the other man took that as a request for head instead.

Not that Viktor’s complaining, necessarily, but it’s… not quite what he’d been hoping for.

“I had fun,” he says after their thirty-six hours are up. Phichit nods, snapping one more photo of them with his device. Viktor supposes that comforts him, somehow — keeping mementos of past relationships. He’s not about to begrudge someone their security blankets.

The one after that is also fine. Emil regales him with stories of snowboarding and paragliding adventures, and they have a good time of it giving mutual handjobs in the shower back at their cabin. In the morning they part ways, and Viktor doesn’t think on it too much.

The one after that is, well. It blurs a bit. As soon as the ‘36 hours’ announcement blares out, Viktor starts to coast through it. Slips on a mask of charming affability as he laughs at his new partner’s jokes and asks pleasant questions about what they like to do. At some point he stops looking around the Hub for Yuuri, knowing that the man’s probably still cooped up with Seung-gil at their little cabin somewhere.

He’s considered going to the rink a couple of times, but it seems like every time he tries, the device decides to set him up on another date. After a while he gives up on the notion itself. It’s pretty clear the system doesn’t want him running into Yuuri again.

“I had fun,” he says, almost by rote the morning after. Mila nods, smiling absently as she looks out towards the lake glittering blue in front of them. Their devices beep down to zero, and Mila waves as she boards her cart to take her off back to the Hub.

Viktor’s device chimes. _You have a new relationship_.

“Great,” he says, and stuffs it in his trouser pocket.

* * *

_00 days, 00 hours, 1 minute, 53 seconds_.

Yuuri stands outside the cabin. A couple steps away, Seung-gil also stands there, his hands jammed firmly in his pockets.

“You’ll find someone,” Yuuri says, out of lack of anything else to say. Seung-gil hums.

“Maybe,” he says vaguely. “You think you found yours?”

“I don’t know if I’d trust my judgement compared to the system,” replies Yuuri, adjusting his glasses. _00 days, 00 hours, 1 minute, 20 seconds_. “I mean, it’s like you said. The perfect partner at the end of a computer algorithm.”

“Love isn’t all numbers and calculations,” says Seung-gil. “We were paired up based off of initial compatibility ratings, and, well.” He gestures at the space between them, and Yuuri chuckles drily.

“Yeah, you can’t really fake a spark,” he admits, rubbing at his nape. “But uh. I suppose we could have been friends?”

Seung-gil’s lips thin in something approaching a smile. “Perhaps,” he agrees. Their devices beep to signify the end of the relationship then, and Seung-gil only bobs his head in acknowledgement as he walks off.

Once he’s gone, Yuuri strides down to the verge before the lake and holds up his device. “Well,” he tells it, “I guess now I know what happens when I have to cohabit with someone I don’t actually have chemistry with. I hope that’s helpful for you.”

 _All of your actions within the confines of various relationships are necessary in the selection of your ultimate match_ , chirps the device.

Yuuri hums. Out across the lake, the Hub shines in the sunlight. The blue sky reminds Yuuri of Viktor’s eyes, and he vaguely wonders if there’s some way to contact him in this world. “Coach, what if we wanted to meet someone —” he begins, but at that moment the device chimes.

_You have a new relationship._

The question dies on Yuuri’s lips. “Right,” he says, and clambers to his feet.

* * *

Viktor adjusts his cuffs as he strides into the restaurant in the Hub again, nodding vaguely at the maître’d just as he rounds the partition to see his new relationship.

For a moment, he wonders if he’s dreaming. Because Yuuri is in the booth again, waiting for him with a smile like summer sunshine, brown eyes sparkling in the dim light.

“Yuuri!” Viktor exclaims. Yuuri gets up from his seat, and before Viktor even knows it they’re hugging, Yuuri tucking his face into the crook of Viktor’s neck. He smells of clean linen and some pleasant light shampoo, and Viktor misses it almost the instant Yuuri pulls away to sit back down.

“Are you sure this is real?” Yuuri asks. “Please tell me this is real, and the system’s paired us up again.”

Viktor laughs, and holds up his device. “Are we at the right table, Coach?” he asks.

 _Affirmative_ , replies the device. Viktor smiles at Yuuri, who slumps in visible relief.

“Well, then?” he asks, and Yuuri holds his device for a moment before sighing.

“Let’s not look at the expiry date,” he suggests. Viktor raises an eyebrow. “I just… I just spent an entire year with someone I wasn’t really that attracted to. I want to savour this.”

Viktor purses his lips, looks at his device. Yuuri has a point — he’s not sure what he’d do if this turns out to be another 36 hour affair.

“Going at it the old-fashioned way?” he teases, and Yuuri’s cheeks flush.

“I suppose,” he says, putting his device away. “Let’s give the system something new to chew on.”

Viktor chuckles at that, and puts his device in his pockets. “I bet they’ve got plenty on me lately,” he says.

Yuuri raises an eyebrow at him. “Really.”

“Yeah, I’ve been… bounced around a bit lately.” Viktor’s smile is a little bittersweet as their food arrives. Two bowls of katsudon this time; he’s glad that the system has noted his new change in menu preferences. “Short fling after short fling after short fling. After a while you sort of just… go through the motions of everything. In and out, in and out — that’s the bit that matters, right?”

Yuuri snorts. “I suppose you’ve been doing quite a bit of that, then?”

“Yeah.” Viktor groans. “My last one was a girl. Sometime during the evening I think I might have astral projected onto the ceiling and watched myself fuck her.”

That earns him a peal of laughter. Viktor wonders if it’s possible for the system to rewire him to do nothing but tell bad jokes about his exes, just so that he could watch Yuuri’s nose scrunch while he laughs.

“To be fair, I don’t think she was very impressed. I’m not… I don’t really prefer women, and that’s probably really obvious.”

“Me neither,” says Yuuri, shrugging. “But it’s not like I’d have gotten much practice, considering, you know. Seung-gil.”

“Yeah.” Viktor laughs, fiddling with his wineglass. “Long-term’s not that fun either, I guess.”

“No, it really isn’t,” agrees Yuuri. “Maybe with the right person, though. But I don’t want to know if we’re a one-night deal again or if we’re in it longer now. I just want to live in the moment.”

“I like the sound of that,” says Viktor, and they clink their glasses together. “To living in the moment.”

“Cheers,” agrees Yuuri, extending his hand. “Promise you won’t look at the expiry?”

Viktor takes it. “Promise,” he says. “Last one to finish his katsudon’s a rotten egg.”

Yuuri giggles. “You’re on.”

* * *

It’s only been an hour, and Yuuri already doesn’t want the night to end.

They’re curled up in the cart together, listening to the quiet hum as it wends its way around the lake to the little cabin. Overhead the infinity of the night sky spreads out, stars twinkling merrily against the vast blackness. It’s a little hard to believe that the boundaries of their world could potentially be confined within those distant concrete walls, especially with a starscape that expansive.

They arrive at their cabin, and Yuuri opens the door once more, shucking off his shoes and watching the now-familiar interiors light up. Once again the colours are back to those shades of blue and grey that Yuuri had noticed on their first date; Viktor, too, raises an eyebrow as he looks around the space.

“Home sweet home,” he says, “for however long we’ve got.”

“Hopefully it’s a while,” replies Yuuri, folding himself up onto the couch and swiping over his consent. There’s a cheery ring on his own device moments later — ‘Viktor has consented to sexual intercourse’, announces his screen — and Yuuri shivers in anticipation.

“Could be ten minutes,” Viktor points out.

Yuuri raises an eyebrow. “Think you’re only going to last ten minutes?”

“Ouch,” declares Viktor. “Maybe it’s only ten minutes because of that.”

Yuuri laughs, rising to his feet and stepping closer to Viktor. “Or it’ll only be ten minutes because you’re wearing too many clothes,” he suggests, his voice more husky than teasing. It’s a patently ridiculous line to say, but somehow it gets Viktor to swallow visibly, licking at his lips as Yuuri steps into his space, keeping their gazes locked onto one another.

“Y — You’re also wearing too many clothes,” he manages.

“Last one out of their clothes is a rotten egg?” Yuuri suggests.

Viktor snorts, though it’s more of a sigh in their newfound proximity. His eyes flicker down to Yuuri’s lips, a pretty little flush creeping out along his neck. “That’s a dangerous suggestion, Yuuri,” he teases.

“How so?” wonders Yuuri, and before he knows it Viktor is kissing him, and it feels like coming home.

Viktor’s lips are like ambrosia; tasting them is probably the closest Yuuri will ever get to tasting heaven. He opens easily under Yuuri’s own, moaning soft against Yuuri’s tongue as his hands come up to cup the sides of Yuuri’s face. Slowly they stumble-walk back towards the bed, Yuuri’s fingers pushing back against Viktor’s suit jacket and only barely managing to throw off his tie as his knees hit the foot of the bed.

Viktor presses him down onto the coverlets again, but this time he is hungry and desirous. Their fingers make short work of shirt buttons and belt buckles, shoving trousers and underwear off their hips at the earliest opportunity. Yuuri bucks up into Viktor’s touch with a low sigh; his hands come around to pull Viktor in by the nape for another kiss.

They break apart briefly, Yuuri’s brows furrowing a little. “How do you want…” he begins, and Viktor quickly responds by straddling his lap.

“Please,” he whispers. “I need you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri flushes. “Okay,” he says, and dives for the nightstand.

Viktor makes the loveliest faces as Yuuri works a lubed and gloved finger into him moments later. He bites his lip, the planes of his chest heaving with his laboured breaths. Yuuri watches in quiet reverence as a deep pink flush spreads from Viktor’s pectorals upwards; with his other hand he traces a circle around one of Viktor’s pert pink nipples, and is rewarded with a pleasured gasp in return.

“So good,” whimpers Viktor, slowly coming undone with the addition of another finger, and another. Yuuri might not have been as experienced with other partners, but he at least knows this. Knows how to crook his fingers just so to get Viktor screaming his name, knows how to work him open until he’s a drooling, wanting mess in Yuuri’s arms.

Finally he pulls out his fingers, tosses the glove in exchange for a condom and more lube. Viktor at this point is barely holding himself up as Yuuri rolls on the condom and slicks himself up; it takes a little extra effort to position himself and let Viktor bear down on him, but the reverent sigh that escapes Viktor’s lips once they are finally joined makes it all worth it.

Viktor’s hands find his; their fingers intertwine, and slowly Viktor starts to move, little breaths shuddering out of him as he does so. Yuuri holds onto him like he holds onto whatever time together they have left; as Viktor moves, Yuuri can’t help but admire the way his silver fringe falls into his eyes, the way his cheeks flush pink, the way his blue eyes glaze over with want every time they meet Yuuri’s.

But eventually Viktor’s pace is not enough, so Yuuri flips their positions, pressing Viktor down against the coverlet and fucking into him, heated but sweet. Viktor mewls as Yuuri kisses a trail down his neck, his body arching into Yuuri’s thrusts enthusiastically. His cock is flushed, too, already leaking precome from the tip. Yuuri longs to taste him.

He doesn’t want to know how much time they have left. He doesn’t want to face the possibility of saying goodbye again, not when they’ve been brought together once more. The chances of this happening again should have been slim to none, and yet for some reason here they are.

Here they are, and there’s still something so familiar about this. About Viktor, as if Yuuri had known him from somewhere else. Maybe before the system, before all of this — maybe even in a past life somehow.

But he doesn’t ruminate on that for too long, because with a beautiful cry of his name, Viktor is coming, streaks of white painting the planes of his abdomen as he does so. Yuuri kisses him, feeling his own release building deep with him as his hands come to press against Viktor’s hips, holding him still as he fucks harder and faster into Viktor in pursuit of his own climax.

“Oh my god,” gasps Viktor, his eyes wide. “Yuuri, oh my god, _please_ —”

“Please what?” manages Yuuri somewhere against the shell of Viktor’s ear.

“Fuck me harder,” pleads Viktor, his hair falling back against his pillow. “ _Yuuri_ —”

Yuuri gives it to him, and within moments he feels release burning through him as brilliant as a comet. He falls and falls, and Viktor’s lips are soft against his as he pulls out to tie off the condom. Moments later, after he’s tossed it and cleaned them both up, he clambers into bed next to Viktor, feeling nothing but lethargic warmth and euphoria.

“How are we feeling?” he asks quietly.

A lazy smile spreads across Viktor’s lips. “Fantastic,” he breathes, reaching out and tangling their fingers together once more.

Yuuri smiles, tucking himself close against Viktor with their hands still joined. For a moment in the madness of these constant relationships, he and Viktor have found each other once more, and that’s what matters. He has no idea how long this moment will last, or if they will ever be brought together again. But in the meantime, he can hold Viktor close, and imagine that someday, they will be named as each other’s ultimate match.


	2. i’ll go to meet you

In the morning, the light is soft and golden as it creeps through the bedroom window. For a moment, Viktor wonders if he’s still dreaming when he shifts and finds Yuuri’s angelic sleeping face inches from his own.

Yuuri’s lashes are long and dark against his soft, lightly-tanned skin. His slightly-parted lips are rosebud pink; his hands are slack against the bedsheets. He’s almost like an enchanted sleeping beauty right off the pages of a storybook, and Viktor isn’t quite sure what part of the system he must have pleased, but surely he had to have done something right if he could hold Yuuri in his arms again.

Slowly he leans over, presses soft kisses to Yuuri’s cheek and forehead. His eyelids flutter, so Viktor takes his hands again, and smiles the instant he sees a sliver of shining brown beneath those lashes.

“Good morning,” he breathes as Yuuri’s eyes open more fully.

“Mm,” Yuuri replies, returning his smile. “You didn’t disappear during the night! Good.”

“Should I be worried?” asks Viktor, quirking an eyebrow.

“I dunno, maybe,” says Yuuri. “We could’ve overstayed our welcome.”

Viktor laughs at that, gesturing towards the device on his nightstand. “Should we check to make sure we haven’t?” he asks.

Yuuri shakes his head, idly tracing the line of Viktor’s jaw. His eyes are pensive, thoughtful. “Let’s not,” he says quietly, shifting to straddle Viktor’s lap. “Let’s just enjoy this.”

If Yuuri had been beautiful last night as he moved like silver in the moonlight, he is even more beautiful now with the morning sun silhouetting him in gold. He kisses Viktor softly, hungrily; when they part his eyes never leave Viktor’s as his hands stroke their cocks to full hardness. Viktor traces designs into Yuuri’s hips and thighs, quirking an eyebrow questioningly as he reaches towards the nightstand. Yuuri nods fervently, and Viktor smiles.

Moments later, Viktor is thrusting into him, clenching his teeth with the desperation not to come at the feeling of Yuuri’s heat engulfing his cock. The other man throws his head back, the pale line of his throat growing flushed as he moves. He takes Viktor’s fingers as they press against his cheek, kissing the tips with a soft gasp, and Viktor has to grit his teeth and think about something else just so he can last this time with Yuuri.

After a moment Yuuri tires, collapsing against him and merely bucking his hips as his lips chase the corner of Viktor’s mouth. Viktor’s hands fly to hold his hips steady as he takes over, thrusting into him with a strange sort of desperation. He’s painfully aware of their devices lying on both sides of the bed, of the little time bomb they contain within. How much longer do they have? Years? Months? Days? Hours?

 _Minutes_?

“Viktor,” breathes Yuuri, his face inches from Viktor’s own, his eyes clouded with desire. “Thinking.”

Viktor exhales, smiles apologetically as he resumes his thrusting, and Yuuri gasps against Viktor’s lips as he loses himself again.

Last night’s release had hit him hard and sudden; this one seems to almost creep up into his bones. He moans as he spills into the condom, moving to try and and pull out, but Yuuri stills his hand, shifting back to continue riding him with frantic shallow bucks of his hips. His hand moves to grasp his shaft, lashes falling long and dark against his cheeks as he touches himself.

Viktor has never seen anything more erotic in his life. With a strangled whimper, he reaches out to help, letting Yuuri guide his hands along his cock and drinking in the way his breath hitches, his skin flushes. With a sigh, Yuuri comes; Viktor tastes him against his fingers as he pulls away.

As he cleans them up, mumbling something about getting breakfast, Viktor looks over at the device sitting silent on his side of the nightstand. It hasn’t made any noises or signalled any sort of inevitable countdown.

Maybe it means they still have time left.

Or maybe it’s just not showing the time because they haven’t checked the expiry yet.

He takes the device with him almost out of rote when he throws on a t-shirt and lounge pants to go and cook breakfast. Yuuri follows in just a large t-shirt and briefs, the hem of the shirt riding up along his hips when he stretches.

Viktor burns and burns — wants and wants, but is terrified of no longer being allowed to have.

* * *

After breakfast, Yuuri takes him to the rink and teaches him the basics of skating. Viktor, however, seems to pick it up almost naturally, gliding around the rink with little hesitation.

“Are you sure you’re new to this?” Yuuri asks. “You move so beautifully.”

“Maybe it’s the system,” says Viktor with a grin. “I put down I did some figure skating in my preliminary compatibility tests. They must have taken that to mean I was an expert.”

“A sophisticated matching system like this can’t even get your skating prowess down right?” wonders Yuuri, reaching out to take Viktor’s hand. They skate laps around the ice, Yuuri turning to go backwards so they can hold both hands. Their devices lie, temporarily forgotten, on the boards at the side of the rink.

“Yeah, does make you wonder if it’s supposed to be that sophisticated at all, or if it’s just random,” says Viktor. “Pairing you up with random people at random durations until you break down and settle for the final option they give you, whoever that is.”

“That’s… bleak,” remarks Yuuri, frowning a little. Viktor chuckles, especially as Yuuri takes the chance to spin himself out across the ice, arms flying wide behind him.

“I mean, it’s not that far from what it was like before the system,” he points out, coming by to place his hands on Yuuri’s hips, tugging himself closer. “You get overloaded by all of the different relationships you run through, except back then you had to work out on your own who you wanted, and who you wanted to break up with. And eventually you just find someone — not the one, probably, but someone decent and kind enough to put up with all your bullshit, and you settle. Just like how we settle for the ultimate match the system gives us.”

“But at least that part’s not totally random, I think,” Yuuri says, turning in Viktor’s arms and looping his own around his neck. “Someone once told me it was an algorithm. It keeps calculating, based on all of the relationships we run through, all of our thoughts and fears that we tell it. And at the end of that is a profile of us, and they find someone who is most compatible with that profile.”

“But ‘compatibility’ isn’t always ‘love’,” argues Viktor. Briefly, Yuuri thinks about Seung-gil’s words. About faking a spark.

“But what we think is ‘love’ might not be suited to long-term matches,” he points out.

Viktor laughs. “You’re committed already to the idea of a perfect, algorithm-created ultimate match?” he asks. “What if they give you someone who works with you so easily that it’s impossible to fall in love with them?”

“How does that even _work_?” demands Yuuri, smacking lightly at Viktor’s chest. He eases back, takes Viktor’s hands as they move for another lap around the rink. “If they work with me easily, of course I’ll love them. I can’t spend forever on the outside of here with someone who doesn’t want to _work_ with me.”

“But it might not be the same,” Viktor says. _It might not be what we’re feeling right now_ , he doesn’t say, but Yuuri hears it all the same.

He brings Viktor closer by the nape of his neck, as Viktor’s hands come around to his waist, lifting him up briefly. Yuuri laughs at that, stroking at Viktor’s cheek before leaning in to kiss his lips.

 _How could it be anything like right now, in this moment, with you_?

Still, the days pass, and their devices lie inert on the nightstands. Viktor curls up in Yuuri’s lap, leads him by the hand into the bath. All of these moments lead to more heated things, leads back to the bed where they love one another until all that’s left on their lips are each other’s names.

Yet with each perfect day, each flawless night, the seeds of doubt begin to grow in Yuuri’s mind. What if the algorithm isn’t as sophisticated as he and Seung-gil had thought it to be? What if his ultimate match _was_ in fact someone who was perfect for him on paper, but not quite in person?

What if they worked together, but there was no _spark_?

Sometimes he catches Viktor looking at the devices, too, that same worried glance flitting across his brows. They’re living on borrowed time, Yuuri knows. Borrowed time and stolen happiness. Someone else could be kissing Viktor now, could be riding him into the mattress, loving him like Yuuri is now. They could be contravening the rules, and the instant time runs out for them they’ll be banished.

But Viktor seems to take the stolen minutes as they come, spending every last second of it loving Yuuri. Caressing him, holding his hand, pressing heated kisses along his neck. Yuuri thinks of nothing but the promise he’d made Viktor make, then, and feels bad for even trying to go back on his word.

But still, he has to know.

And one night, as Viktor slumbers serene and silvery in the bed next to him, his fringe falling soft against his alabaster cheeks, Yuuri takes the device with him and slowly, carefully extricates himself from the circle of Viktor’s arms.

He steps silently into the living room, tucks himself onto the couch. “Coach, please,” he says quietly, and the device hums in greeting.

 _What do you need, Yuuri_? it asks.

“I need to know if it’s him,” whispers Yuuri. “I need to know if Viktor’s my ultimate match.”

 _Your ultimate match has not yet been decided_ , replies the device. Yuuri’s stomach drops.

“But we’ve been together for so long already,” he whispers. “I mean, if you’re an algorithm that’s taking in all of my data about my experiences, then you’d know Viktor and I are really good together, right?”

 _The system does not make moral judgements. It merely evaluates positive and negative reactions to stimuli that occur in each given relationship_.

Yuuri snorts. “Okay, but how much longer do we have in this relationship?” he asks.

The ‘tap to reveal expiry date’ screen shows up. Yuuri groans.

“No,” he says. “I made him promise I wouldn’t.”

He doesn’t want to know. And yet, he also does.

 _Would you like me to talk you out of this_? asks the device.

“Yes,” says Yuuri. “No. I don’t know.”

How much of a hypocrite would he look to Viktor if he did? Yet despite the words he’d said, despite his insistence to Viktor that he wanted to enjoy the moment, to live in the present without worries about the future — despite all of that, he still worries deep down. Still sees the same worry mirrored on Viktor’s face, his quiet contemplation of the devices.

Was Viktor wondering, too? Wondering how much time they have left, counting down the minutes in his head until their devices ring and kick them out?

Was he finally tiring of Yuuri?

Yuuri grits his teeth, looks at the screen. “Fuck it,” he mutters to himself, and presses the fingerprint.

The device chimes. ‘5 years’, it says, and the first thing Yuuri feels is relief.

Five years. That’s a long while. Five years of perfect days and nights. Of Viktor’s smiles and kisses against his skin. He would gladly take five years. He would —

The device chimes again. The numbers vanish. _Recalibrating_ , the device says, and cold panic seizes Yuuri’s heart in an instant.

He rushes the device in his hands out the door of the cabin. The bitter night cold hits him, vicious and hard. _3 years_ , says the device. _Recalibrating_.

“What’s happening?” demands Yuuri, hands trembling as he clutches the device. “Coach, what’s going on? Why’s it getting shorter?”

 _One-sided observation has destabilised the expiry date_ , announces the device. _18 months. Recalibrating_.

 _No, no. That’s enough. That’s enough_! Yuuri slams his hand against the device, but it doesn’t respond, only flashes the red recalibration circle at him as the time ticks down even faster. “Why are you doing this?”

 _Everything happens for a reason_.

Yuuri’s heart sinks. “But I just wanted to know.”

 _And now you do. 2 months. Recalibrating_.

“Couldn’t you undo this? Make it go back?”

_I am sorry, but I cannot do that. Recalibrating._

“But what if he looks? What if Viktor looked at it right now?”

_Once shortened, the expiry date cannot be extended. 3 weeks. Recalibrating._

“Why can’t it be?” demands Yuuri. “If you’re such a clever algorithm, wouldn’t you want more positive feedback?”

 _Everything happens for a reason_ , repeats the device, almost smugly. The night wind cuts at Yuuri’s skin, makes his hands and voice shake as they clutch at the cold circular metal.

“When will it stop?” he pleads.

 _When recalibration is complete. 5 days. Recalibrating_.

Five days is not enough. Yuuri’s heart stutters with each pulse of red on the screen. “Stop it. Just — stop it!”

 _Recalibration complete_ , declares the device, and Yuuri’s stomach sinks into his feet as he sees the final time allotment. _20 hours_.

Only twenty hours left, when they could have had years.

Yuuri feels the prickle of tears in his eyes as the device begins its countdown. Regret engulfs him, like the rippling waters of the lake engulfing the shore, like the seeping blackness of night engulfing the stars.

With the weight of this new knowledge burdened on him, he turns back inside into the warm sanctuary of the cabin, and slowly prepares for his last day with Viktor.

* * *

Viktor wakes in the morning to find Yuuri silhouetted against the window, looking out at the lake in soft contemplation. He casts a glance at his device on the nightstand, his stomach curling in apprehension and revulsion.

How much time do they have left?

“Morning,” he says, sliding up behind Yuuri and putting an arm around his waist. Yuuri turns, his cheeks flushing in the clouded light, and Viktor can’t help but notice the faint hint of tear tracks down his cheeks.

“Is everything all right?” he asks.

Yuuri wipes absently at his eyes. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m fine.”

But it becomes obvious that over the course of the day, Yuuri is not fine. He’s silent over breakfast, contemplating his eggs with a soft sigh. He’s downcast on the couch, his movements slow and ponderous as he tangles his hands in Viktor’s hair. Viktor looks up from where he’d been sucking Yuuri’s cock, and feels the same strange melancholy seep into his bones.

“Let’s go skating,” he suggests. “That usually cheers you up.”

Yuuri traces figures into the ice at the rink, his body twisting as he changes directions. Figure eights, choctaws, twizzles — he dances to some unknown music, silent and contemplative.

After a moment, Viktor pushes off from the boards, catching Yuuri as he rises from a spin. “Teach me how to jump,” he suggests.

“It’s not that easy,” says Yuuri, easily launching into a triple Axel. Viktor laughs as Yuuri’s skates hit the ice cleanly, clapping as he watches the man skate back.

“Well, the system seems to think it’s easy,” he points out. “I haven’t even fallen since I stepped on. I’d like to see if I could.”

“There’s different kinds of jumps,” Yuuri says. He demonstrates them, most of them triples with a couple quads. “The differences between them are how you get into them, and how you land. You need to do it on a certain edge.”

Viktor copies Yuuri’s footwork for the toe loop, and launches, to his surprise, into a quad. “What the hell was _that_?” he demands, when he lands with trembling knees and a pounding heart. Yuuri’s eyes are wide.

“A quad toe loop,” he says. “I could do that, too. And the Salchow — but that’s it. Those are the only two I can do quads with. I’ve been trying to do a quad flip for the longest time.”

“Which one’s the flip?” asks Viktor, and Yuuri demonstrates it. Viktor copies him, landing only after three rotations.

“They really don’t want you to fall,” Yuuri remarks, his gaze distant for a moment. Viktor raises an eyebrow at him.

“Is there something on your mind?” he asks.

Yuuri shakes his head. “It’s nothing,” he says, and takes Viktor’s hand. He starts to guide Viktor in laps around the rink, just like last time, but now there’s a definite heaviness to his silence, and Viktor doesn’t know what to do.

* * *

They’re heading through the Hub when Viktor finally takes Yuuri’s arm, and looks him dead on in the eyes. “Yuuri, I know something’s wrong,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. “Please tell me what it is.”

Yuuri’s knees go weak, his heart trembles. How could he have fucked up so badly with someone so perfect? When Viktor had been otherwise distracted, Yuuri had taken the chance to look at the countdown on his device. Hours tick into minutes into seconds. Their last day together is ending.

“Please, Yuuri,” beseeches Viktor, his eyes pleading. “Tell me.”

“I looked.” The words tumble out of him before he even realises it. Viktor blinks at him, and then realisation slowly dawns on his face.

“Oh, _Yuuri_ ,” he breathes. “I thought you said you didn’t want to.”

“I didn’t — I don’t — I just… I wanted to know if you were… it just —” Yuuri’s brain is running too fast for his mouth. All of these meaningless sounds, jumbled up with one another. “I’m so sorry, Viktor. Please.”

“How much time?” asks Viktor, his voice quiet, his face now hidden by his fringe as he bows his head. “How much time do we have left?”

Yuuri swallows. “An hour,” he says.

Viktor goes still. Yuuri panics.

“We had five years originally,” he adds. “But then something happened — the time started getting shorter, and —”

“Five years?” echoes Viktor. “Just _five_?”

“I don’t know!” exclaims Yuuri. “I wanted to know if you were my ultimate match, and one thing led to another, and now — and now I fucked it up, I’m so sorry.”

“I’d have liked forever,” Viktor murmurs, and with a startle Yuuri realises that his shoes are getting wet. He raises the silver fringe, and sees the tears welling in Viktor’s eyes. “That’s the point, wasn’t it? Ignore the time, and you could get forever? I — I was so scared that we’d only have a couple hours, or a couple days, but —”

“But I fucked up, and I just —”

“I love you, Yuuri,” Viktor whispers. “I would’ve done anything you asked. Run off together, maybe, out into the beyond.”

“There’s nothing out there,” Yuuri points out.

“You don’t know that,” Viktor counters. “The sky might stop at the wall, but that’s just a story. Maybe there’s more out there. We’d never know.”

Yuuri’s dimly aware of the fact that others have stopped to stare at them. He reaches for Viktor, but the other man’s hands are limp in his, lifeless.

“I was dying to look, too,” he admits. “I was dying to know how long we had left. But I didn’t look, because you made me promise you. And I didn’t want to do anything that would hurt you.”

Yuuri’s crumbling, breaking inside, and no one else in this entire damn system can see it. “Viktor, please —”

“I didn’t know you could be so selfish,” says Viktor quietly, turning his face from Yuuri. “Please, just go.”

Yuuri feels his own tears, hot and heavy in his chest and threatening to burst. But he doesn’t let it come, not with the entire world staring, not with the crackle of electricity coming from the taser of the nearest security guard. Swallowing heavily, he steps back, lets his hands fall away from Viktor’s, and slowly walks away.

He’s proud of the fact that he only looks back once, at Viktor’s tear-stricken expression, before the infinite escalators of the Hub swallow him.

* * *

“Why did he _do_ that, Coach?” Viktor sobs, as soon as he had reached their cabin and sequestered himself in the bedroom, sinking heavily at the foot of the bed.  

 _The system is currently monitoring your reaction to the premature termination of a cherished relationship_ , replies the device. _The information gathered from this will be used to adjust and improve the profile of your ultimate match_.

“He said he didn’t want us to look, and yet he —” Viktor grips the circular metal, unable to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks and splashing onto the screen. “ _Why_?”

 _Your reaction to the perceived betrayal of someone you hold in high esteem is also invaluable data for the selection of your chosen one_ , says the device. _Everything happens for a reason_.

“That’s not comforting at all,” snaps Viktor.

 _There, there_.

Viktor heaves a sigh, folds himself tighter against his knees. The sheets still smell of Yuuri. The entire house is still imprinted with his ghost.

“Just… let me have this. What’s the countdown now?”

The screen flashes. Viktor taps, his stomach dropping at the sight of the timer ticking back from 30 minutes.

 _You are expected to vacate the premises when your allotted time is up_ , reminds the device.

“Fuck off,” mutters Viktor, and collapses into the bed.

* * *

Yuuri flees back to the ice, back to the calming routine of tracing figures.

But now the ice is imprinted with the ghost of Viktor’s skates, the air permeated with echoes of his laughter. Yuuri turns, and for a brief moment he thinks he sees Viktor gliding to him, eyes wide as he launches into a triple flip that he hadn’t even anticipated.

So odd. So strangely imperfect.

He fucked up, he knows. They should have had years. Should have had a natural conclusion. But his own fears and doubts had won him over for that one moment, and he had lost Viktor as a result.

He doesn’t want to remember the way Viktor had looked with tears in his eyes, and yet it is all he can see in his mind’s eye, imprinted on his retinas as sure as the ghosts of Viktor’s presence linger on the ice. Yuuri sighs, launches himself into a dizzying step sequence, tries to work the image out of his brain through the repeated twists and turns of some unknown routine.

His device chimes. Yuuri doesn’t even bother looking at the announcement of his new relationship.

The man he meets is charming, in his own taciturn way. He reminds Yuuri a bit of Seung-gil, which is better than reminding him of Viktor. “Otabek,” he says, extending his hand. Yuuri shakes it, guilt rising through him as he taps for the expiry date.

36 hours. Punishment for his sins.

Otabek talks of music throughout the dinner and well into the sex, too, his hands playing melodies against Yuuri’s skin, his cock drawing arias from Yuuri’s lips. But in the night, when Yuuri reaches for his hands, he is silent and still.

The morning is cold and grey. Otabek shakes his hand and leaves.

* * *

The days pass, and Viktor passes with them, living through the motions but mostly numb inside. The system gives him a couple new dates, but the allotted time doesn’t ever get longer than thirty-six hours. Viktor’s almost grateful for that.

He’s more grateful for the times he spends alone, jogging along the trail circling the lake. Sometimes he considers going to the rink to see Yuuri again, but every time he does he thinks better of it the moment his feet turn towards the rink. So he doesn’t.

The system marches on, and Viktor is alone for a long while, and he reckons that’s perfectly fine. Alone is fine. Alone is better than being in the company of someone who isn’t Yuuri.

* * *

Yuuri supposes the system is putting him through a series of loveless hookups to remind him of what he did wrong. To put his fuck-ups front and centre as he smiles and talks his way through a string of meaningless dates.

“You seem sad,” Sara says from across the table at him. Yuuri looks up from the ‘36 hour’ notification, and forces a smile onto his face.

“I’m fine, really,” he says. She nods, and squeezes his hand. It reminds him startlingly of Viktor, and he flinches before he even realises it.

Sara pulls back immediately. “I’m sorry,” she says hastily.

Yuuri shakes his head. “It’s not your fault,” he says. “I just. It takes me a bit to get comfortable with touching.”

He’s at least comfortable enough by the end of the night to take her to bed, but the moment Sara spreads her legs, Yuuri stills. The topography is a bit different from what he’s used to, and he swallows.

“It’s… my preferences are different,” he says after a moment, hanging his head and feeling his cheeks burn. “I’m sorry if I disappoint.”

Sara laughs and rolls her eyes. “To be fair, so are mine,” she says. “How about we just, uh, rub one off next to one another?”

Yuuri sags in visible relief. “Please,” he says, and lies down in bed next to her, watching her hand slide between her legs. He takes his cock in hand, sighing into the darkness of the room. “Who are you thinking of?”

* * *

“We could have had five years, you know,” Viktor mutters, his voice filling the darkness of the bedroom as his date for the night bobs his head along his cock. “Five _entire_ years. And I know that’s not enough, not when it’s compared to the forever you’d get with your ultimate match, but that’s still a good amount of time, right? And he went and looked and fucked it up. And god, I know I should be mad, but all I feel is… sadness.”

“He used to babble a lot in bed, too,” his date — Christophe, Viktor belatedly remembers —  mumbles as he grips at the base of Viktor’s cock, tongue swirling around the tip. “Talk about everything there ever was to talk about. He was so… lively.”

“Yeah, so was he,” says Viktor, flopping back onto the bed. “I mean, not life of the party kind of lively, but still so bright and vibrant in his own way. Life and love, bottled into one person.”

“Yeah, that’s also how I felt about him,” Christophe’s lips leave Viktor’s cock with a wet ‘pop’. He clambers onto the bed, settling himself between Viktor’s legs, his hazel eyes questioning. “Are you ready yet, love?”

Viktor sighs, reaches out to cup his cheeks. “Can I think about him?” he asks.

A pause. Christophe nods. “Only if I can do the same,” he replies, and Viktor’s head falls back against the pillows as he closes his eyes.

Christophe’s fingers work into him moments later, but all Viktor thinks about is Yuuri.

* * *

The dates pile up, the faces blur together. Body after body after body, until Yuuri’s starting to wonder if this is just the system sadistically torturing him for his wrongdoings.

All of his free time he takes out onto the ice now, never pausing in his contemplation of the jumps, never falling once onto the ice. Triple flip. Triple flip. It just never gives him that extra rotation, no matter how hard he tries.

Finally, one afternoon when he returns to the boards for a drink of water, the device chimes a new little ringtone at him. He frowns, picking it up, and it announces:

 _Congratulations, Yuuri, your ultimate match has been identified._ _Your pairing day is tomorrow_.

Yuuri blinks. “Ultimate? You mean the one?” he asks.

 _Affirmative_.

Yuuri’s heart skips a beat. “And… and we meet tomorrow?”

 _Affirmative_.

Yuuri blinks. “We meet? Or we meet again?”

 _I do not understand what you mean_.

“Am I meeting them for the first time tomorrow?” Yuuri’s breath feels suspended in his throat, alongside the frantic caged bird that is his heart.

 _Affirmative_ , says the device, and the ice seeps into Yuuri’s body once more. _Tomorrow you will be paired with your ultimate match, and together you will leave this place forever_.

Meeting for the first time tomorrow. Yuuri’s heart is cold with dread. “Okay,” he exhales. “And you’re sure I’ve never met them before.”

 _Affirmative. There is one more thing, however_.

“Yeah?”

_Prior to pairing day, you have been allocated a short farewell period with an individual of your choosing._

Yuuri blinks. “A farewell period,” he echoes. “So I get to say goodbye to someone.”

 _Affirmative. Data has shown that this will provide psychological closure_.

Closure. Yuuri huffs a little. There’s only one person he wants to say goodbye to.

“Viktor. I’d like to see Viktor. If he’ll, uh, be okay with that.” Because chances are, Viktor won’t be. Chances are, Viktor will hate him for betraying him like that. But there’s no use in thinking and worrying about it for the rest of time. Viktor deserves a proper apology, a proper farewell.

_Your choice has been registered. You will meet at your usual booth at 7:30PM._

“Thanks,” says Yuuri, already heading out of the rink. However, at the gate, he looks back at the sheet of ice, frowning at its pristine shine. “Coach?”

 _Yes_?

“Can you do a quad flip?”

 _I do not understand what you mean_.

Yuuri smiles. “Just count to four,” he says, and throws the device at the glittering ice.

* * *

Viktor gets the message to show up at the Hub at 7:30PM. _One last farewell dinner with Yuuri_ , the device tells him. _And tomorrow you’ll be paired up with your ultimate match_.

“Are you absolutely sure I haven’t met this match before?” Viktor pleads.

 _Affirmative_.

“Why is it a stranger, and not someone I know?”

 _Everything happens for a reason_.

“Fuck your reasons,” mutters Viktor, shutting off the device and clambering into the shower.

Even despite his anger, despite the imminent sadness of having to say goodbye to Yuuri forever, Viktor finds himself impatiently counting down the time to 7:30. He gets dressed in his best suit, styles his hair carefully, puts on a little dash of cologne. He looks at himself in the mirror, frowning at his reflection as he adjusts his tie.

A final offering. A chosen one. An ultimate match, but all Viktor feels is dread. All he sees is settling, and faking the sparks, and only laughing and smiling in front of a crowd of blank-faced well-wishers on his Pairing Day stage, not having anything substantial to say about his designated soulmate.

What’s the point of the system, if all he wants and all he needs is Yuuri?

Why does he have to settle, if he could have Yuuri?

His heart is beating frantically by the time he arrives at the Hub, by the time he’s striding into the restaurant, heading straight for the usual booth. Yuuri is there, and he looks devastating in his well-cut suit with the horrid navy tie, and Viktor wants to laugh at that even as Yuuri rises out of the booth to meet him and —

And they’re kissing, and Viktor doesn’t know who started that, doesn’t know anything beyond the fact that Yuuri is in his arms, right here, right now, and _god_ he’s missed him. Yuuri tastes like champagne, like starlight, like every floating golden butterfly erupting in Viktor’s stomach. They only break apart for air, amid a curious crowd of onlookers staring openly at them from their booths.

Yuuri tugs him into the booth. Viktor gets in next to him, his hand seeking Yuuri’s almost as soon as they sit. “I’m sorry,” Yuuri starts, but Viktor puts a finger to his lips.

“I’m being paired off tomorrow,” he says.

“So am I,” breathes Yuuri. “I’ve never even met my ultimate match. I don’t think I want them.”

“I _know_ I don’t want them,” says Viktor vehemently. “I want you.”

“I want you,” agrees Yuuri, and the only thing that tempers Viktor’s heart from soaring right out of his body is the fact that everyone in the restaurant is staring at them.

 _Failure to comply with the system may result in banishment_ , his device warns. Viktor reaches out and turns it off again, before looking back over at Yuuri.

“Do you… do you remember Makkachin?” Yuuri asks quietly. “Like his face, what he looks like now?”

Viktor blinks, tries to remember. All he draws is a blank. “I don’t,” he confesses.

“Neither do I, about Vicchan. I just know she’s my dog, she’s a toy poodle, and I couldn’t bring her in here.” Yuuri looks down, fiddling with the napkin on their table. “What about your preliminary compatibility tests? Do you remember taking that?”

“No,” says Viktor immediately. “I just know what it tells me. That I can figure skate, and jog, and —” he cuts off, frowning. “Why don’t I know anything about before?”

“It’s a test,” says Yuuri immediately.

“A test,” echoes Viktor. “For what?”

“Do you remember our first night?” The line of questioning is getting more and more confusing, but Viktor suspects Yuuri’s onto something. Something about algorithms and the system and all of these other little things in between, like the stars that wheel ahead in the infinite night outside the windows of the Hub. “That first night, Viktor, do you remember how you felt?”

“Like there was nowhere else I wanted to be,” says Viktor. “Like I wanted to be able to reach out and stop time and keep you there with me forever. Like we’d… like we’re two snowflakes formed from the same drop of water.”

“Like we’d met before?” asks Yuuri. “Over and over again, a thousand times?”

Viktor nods, speechless, breathless.

Yuuri leans in impossibly close, his breath mere inches from Viktor’s face. “Ever since we’ve met, this world has been toying with us. Everything happens for a reason, Viktor, remember?”

“It’s trying to keep us apart,” Viktor breathes, looking around the room. The beeping of the device echoes in his ears, counting down the precious hour and a half they have for this farewell. “It’s a test, like you said.”

“And rebelling against it is the only way we’re going to pass,” Yuuri agrees, and his hands are in Viktor’s hair, his earnest brown eyes boring into Viktor’s. “We have to end this.”

“Run away together,” agrees Viktor. “Out over the wall, into the beyond.”

“Just you and me.” Yuuri smiles. The beeping of the device continues, louder and louder as it nears the expiry moment. Viktor’s a little tempted to look down, but he’s more tempted by the promise in Yuuri’s eyes, by the warmth of his hands against his skin.

One final beep, and then the chime that signals the end of their time. Yuuri looks down, back up at Viktor, and then slowly he rises to his feet, out of the booth.

Viktor follows, taking Yuuri’s hand. Everyone is still staring at them, stiff, disapproving. It’s like the moment at the escalators all over again, the world signifying its disapproval with their unorthodox methods of romance. Viktor could hardly care less.

A security guard shows up, his taser crackling with electricity. He confronts them at the exit, followed by the distant shapes of other guards. Yuuri’s hand slips from Viktor’s as he steps forward, frowning at the guard’s stance, at the bolt crackling at the tip of his taser.

He touches the electricity, and suddenly the world freezes.

Time comes to a screeching halt in its tracks, pausing even the flow of vodka out of the bartender’s bottle. Viktor looks around him, wide-eyed, just before Yuuri grabs his hands, and they rush out of the door of the restaurant.

They tread together the familiar path out of the Hub, hand-in-hand as they pass by frozen figures and faces. Viktor thinks he dimly recognises a couple of them, but he’s more fixated on Yuuri’s determined strides, Yuuri’s hand tight in his. They exit the Hub, past more people waiting for their carts, across the grassy fields towards the looming concrete walls.

There’s a ladder right to the top, metal steps stark against the baleful lighting. For a brief moment, Viktor falters. The rungs seem to stretch towards the stars, towards infinity. How are they ever going to escape? What if time starts up again, and the security guards come for them?

 _Failure to comply results in banishment_. But they’re already banishing themselves.

Yuuri’s eyes are steely with determination as he hops onto the first rung, tossing a look over his shoulder back at Viktor. It’s a challenge and a question; it’s now or never. Yes, or no?

Viktor could never say no to Yuuri. So he takes a deep breath, puts his hands to the cold metal of the ladder, and climbs.

The ladder stretches on, always another rung in front of them as they climb and climb. Below their feet, the only world they’ve ever know falls away to the size of pinpricks and ants, little golden stars twinkling around a vast, silent lake. Viktor tries not to look back — he keeps his eyes fixed ahead on Yuuri. On the climb, on the ladder, on freedom.

But suddenly, the lights below all go out, the grass and the lake and the stars alike fading into inky blackness. The crackle of static fills the air as the blackness hits the wall and starts to creep up, quickly and inexorably gaining on them. Viktor sees Yuuri panic briefly, but they both press on even as the static rises up and the blackness engulfs them —

And then there is nothing but static.

And then there is light. They step forward together into what seems to be a black space, some strange purgatory full of… them.

Countless copies of them.

There’s a Viktor in a magenta military jacket, holding onto a Yuuri with the same jacket but in blue. There’s a Viktor in a suit and a Yuuri in a figure skating costume of satin and mesh with splashes of crystals. A Viktor in a red-and-white jacket, and a Yuuri in a blue-and-black one.

A small, familiar chime echoes above their heads, and they look, to see the number ‘998’ on it, hovering with them as they walk amid the other copies of themselves. Then, slowly, all of the other copies begin to transform into balls of light, floating upwards like stars.

Yuuri looks up, and Viktor looks with him, watching as each ball of light takes its place in a vast circle around an ever-increasing number. Yuuri’s hand squeezes Viktor’s own, and Viktor looks up and suddenly _knows_.

These are their other rebellions. Their other successes.

Finally, the number above them fades, and they, too, fade along with it. They soar up, a set of bright stars bundled in one ball of light, to join the rest of their brethren in the statistic above.

_1000 simulations completed. 998 rebellions logged._

A 99.8% match.

* * *

_Yuuri Katsuki_ , the screen on Viktor Nikiforov’s phone reads, as the music of the banquet swells and the other skaters start to whoop and cheer. _99.8% match_.

He looks up, his heart beating fast at the sight of the beautiful Japanese man stumbling across the room towards him. “Viktor!” Yuuri yells, his voice slurred with champagne, exuberant with dance-off adrenaline. He’s waving his phone excitedly at Viktor even as he grinds his hips against Viktor’s leg, and Viktor dimly makes out a similar screen on the other man’s phone.

“I can’t believe we’re so compatible, Viktor! You should come visit me after Worlds — my family owns a ryokan in Japan, so it won’t be too far.” Yuuri’s brown eyes are sparkling bright as he suddenly gets another idea and looks up at him beseechingly. “Oh, and if I win this next dance-off, you could come coach me, right? Since we’re 99.8% compatible, it won’t be a trouble at all, right? Be my coach, Viktor!”

And as Yuuri launches himself at Viktor, his arms looping around Viktor’s neck, Viktor looks down at his phone, and the little number that blinks merrily at him.

He smiles, feeling his heart skip a beat as he brushes some hair out of Yuuri’s eyes. “Of course,” he says. With a whoop, Yuuri skips off to take Christophe Giacometti up on his pole dancing challenge, and Viktor looks down at the photographs that had been taken for him of his own dance with Yuuri.

He doesn’t know how long he has with this beautiful, lively man, but if that percentage is anything to go by, Yuuri Katsuki should not be someone he gives up on so easily.

And he won’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Full list of pairings in this fic:  
> Viktor/Yuuri (endgame)  
> Viktor/JJ (with past but amicable JJ/Bella)  
> Yuuri/Seung-gil  
> Viktor/Yuri (for 30 minutes, no sexual content)  
> Viktor/Phichit  
> Viktor/Emil  
> Viktor/Mila  
> Yuuri/Otabek  
> Yuuri/Sara (they admit to being too gay to deal with this lol)  
> Viktor/Christophe (with heavy hinting of past Christophe/Phichit)
> 
> There's some implications based off this list that Phichit/Yuuri is Yuuri's ultimate match pairing, but you're free to read another pairing into that if you'd like. 
> 
> This fic is dedicated to Nye for her birthday, and to SVDD for enabling the rest. Additional thanks to Charlie Brooker for letting me yoink his plot and make it 300x gayer, and to [history-rover](https://history-rover.tumblr.com) and [Auri](https://aurum-auri.tumblr.com/) for beta reading. 
> 
> The title of the fic and the chapters are taken from BTS's "Spring Day".


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